


The wolf and his apprentice

by Scarsji



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Cannibalism, I have no idea how to tag so probably more will come later, Kidnapping, Listen here pal, M/M, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 07:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26469487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarsji/pseuds/Scarsji
Summary: Timothy finds himself lost at a parking lot, too late for a bus to drive him back home or to call anyone for help. The only company he has being the lamps buzzing, moths, empty cars, and a strangely familiar stranger.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Timothy Lawrence
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	1. Ride back home

**Author's Note:**

> SO.  
> This fic is a bit important to me as it's the first fic I've ever posted, and I'm really nervous about it being even remotely good. So do go easy on me, I'll get better with time probably. :'D  
> The reason for why I even wrote this is because I couldn't find any "murder" fics with bl that fitted my taste, each one of them being "Jack is a millionaire and he lives happily with his daughter and he has a double life how cool is that remember the murdering part? I sure don't". Summary: not enough of gore and the murdering part exploration. And especially with Jack/Tim. So I've decided to do the content I want to see and "hopefully" create something enjoyable to read. ^^

“Mr. Lawrence, I understand where your anxiety may come from, seeing your past has been, well, more than frantic so to speak.” Dr. Zedd said. “But just why in the hell are you calling me at such a late hour?” 

Timothy wasn’t sure how to answer him as he sat in an almost empty parking lot, watching the cars speed past him on a one-way road.

He’s been sitting there for almost two hours now, being the middle of the night he did not know if there was a bus that’d come, and he didn’t have any money on him to call for a taxi. Just his phone and keys.

“I-I’m sorry for that, I know this isn’t the ideal time to call, but…” Timothy looked around. The one lamp lighting the parking lot that has been jittering had him grow more anxious with every minute. He played with his keys, trying to focus on them instead of the eyes he felt on him from the moment he arrived here. 

“But what?” Timothy gulped at the sound of irritation coming through the phone, head immediately dropping and a taste of copper swaying on his tongue. 

“I um… I think I’m being followed.” It almost sounded stupid to him, as he was alone in the parking lot, with no one but empty cars keeping him company. But the feeling did not disappear, and while he knew some feelings were just fuelled by his paranoia, he was damn sure that there was someone sitting just a few minutes ago on the bench beside the bus stop. 

“Mr. Lawrence…” Timothy could tell how close the man was to hang up. “I assure you that there is no one following you. We have talked in our last sessions that it is normal to feel this way as it is a side effect of your Social Anxiety Disorder. We have agreed that your head is making stuff up because of stress and it’s trying to find a reasonable answer. Even when there’s none.” Timothy did agree on that, but it didn’t mean he liked it.

“There is nothing to be worried about.” He nodded, remembering how many times the man had to calm him down and how long it took him to stop staring at his windows. 

There was silence for a while, Timothy too ashamed to even say a word, and his psychiatrist apparently too tired to come up with anything to add. 

A heavy sigh was audible, and some papers shuffling. “Listen, Timothy… I’ll call a taxi for you, hm? If I recall correctly, your bus won’t be driving at these hours anymore, right?” Dr. Zedd asked.

“No, they’re not…” Timothy looked at the bench one more time, his heart dropping when the man was back on the bench. When did he come back? Where did he even go? 

“All right, then I’ll call one for you, as I suppose you’re not too keen on walking back home.” Timothy panicked, as that meant the man had to hang up and leave him alone. 

“Wait!” Timothy said, quickly shushing himself and taking a few steps back. “Please don’t hang up, I don’t want to be left alone.” He pleaded, not taking his eyes off the man.

“Don’t worry Timothy, the taxi will come soon, probably. I couldn’t talk to you much longer anyway, I have papers from other patients to sort out too, and I’m far from being done.” Timothy wanted to argue, say that as his psychiatrist he should assist him in the moment of need and excess worry, but a long beep cut him off, and now it was only him, the cars, and the man on the bench.

He could have tried to call Dr. Zedd again, but the irritation was not something he had the mental strength to deal with, especially when another, much bigger problem was sitting across the road. 

Timothy wanted nothing to do with him, but seeing how he’d have to wait for the taxi awhile anyway, he thought he might as well check on the man, just to calm him down. Maybe it was someone who just likes him has dropped off the bus at the wrong stop? Maybe he was being paranoid for nothing? 

Timothy took a deep breath, looked around one more time to make sure there was no-one else, and started walking towards the stranger. 

Only when he got closer did he see the man’s face, and to his surprise, it looked scarily similar to his own. It was much more tanned, his skin clear of any freckles, and a light scar decorated his face like a crack in a vase, stretching across his nose and brow, old and nicely healed up. He didn’t know he stopped walking until the stranger hasn’t looked at him and raised a brow, looking at him as if he was the creep in this situation.

Oh god, maybe he was?

“Are you going to stand there kiddo or are you going to sit down? Honestly, you’re being creepy standing there like that. You’ve already been staring at me from across the road for a while, I’m almost tempted to call the police or something.” The man said, amusement lingering in his voice. Timothy did not feel any of it as realization washed over him of how he must’ve looked from the stranger's perspective.

“N-no, please! I was just-” He wasn’t sure what to say again. He should apologize, honestly. The man was probably just waiting, and Tim was acting like a creep, but what was he supposed to say? That he felt threatened by a man who was just sitting on a bench? Even though he was the one standing there, with sharp keys in his hands, in the middle of a parking lot and staring for a good while at the man? 

“I’m sorry?” Timothy wasn’t so sure of that.

“Nah, don’t worry, I was just joking.” The man said, and somehow his sharp laugh made Timothy calm down a bit. “You should see yourself kid, you’re shaking more than a leaf. Come on, you’ve been standing there enough.”

With a deep breath Timothy took a step ahead and finally sat down, shoulders stiff, and staring at his shoes. 

“C’mon now, don’t be so shy! You know what, how about we chat for a while? Hmm? The bus won’t be coming for a while, so we have a bit of time.” The man said, and Timothy had to fight the urge to remind the man that there was no bus coming, although his guts told him that wasn’t a good idea. 

“… Alright.” Timothy sat next to the man, but a bit more to the side and he’d be sitting on the ground.

“Oh c’mon, I don’t bite kiddo.” The stranger watched him with the corner of the eye, posture relaxed yet eyes sharp. 

“The name’s Jack.” The man smiled.

“What?”

“I said, my name is Jack.” He repeated himself.

“Oh, um, Timothy.” Even though Jack didn’t ask for his name, he felt Jack wouldn’t like silence for an answer.

“Well then, Jimothy,” Timothy winced at that. “Please tell me why the hell you have been standing in the parking lot like a dog without an owner for the last two hours. I am just oh so curious about that.” He said not looking at his face, instead of at the trees lurking behind the metal fence surrounding the parking lot. They gave off a sense of calmness and mystery, a tinge of fear even. As Timothy glanced at Jack, he could tell that he was familiar with them.

“I missed the bus.” He told the truth. So why was Jack giving him a dubious look?

“Uhuh.” Jack clicked his tongue. “I’m not going to transform into a bus for ya kiddo, you know that right? Staring at me for that long wouldn’t make it come back.” A wave of heat hit his face at that and looked elsewhere, hiding his face in his hands and making a strangled noise.

“I know.” He mumbled.

“So?” Jack asked, tilting his head to the side.

“So what?”

“So why have you been staring at me at?” 

Timothy straightened up and dropped his hands, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. 

“I, may have been scared.” Timothy said hesitantly. “Of you.” Quickly followed.

“Of me?” Jack burst laughing, a slap to the knee, and his head thrown back. Timothy didn’t know what Jack found so funny but accompanied him with a nervous chuckle.

“Oh, you should, kitten.” Jack gave out another wave of laughter at how pale Timothy’s face got, adding a quick ‘joking’ between the gasps of air. Timothy swallowed heavily.

A soft hum in the distance got Timothy’s attention, and a wave of relief washed over him. His Taxi arrived.

As Jack slowly calmed down, wiping out the tears from his eyes Timothy stood up and almost jumped to the edge of the sidewalk, jittery from the excitement that he’ll finally be getting back home. 

As the car stopped next to him the driver let the window down, his elbow resting on the frame and a polite smile on the olds man's face greeting him. “If I’m correct you should be Timothy Lawrence?” His eyes were hidden behind wrinkles, but even if Timothy couldn’t quite see them, they still felt more welcoming than Jacks.

“Yes!” He saw in the corner of his eyes Jack making a face, probably not too happy about how relieved Timothy sounded. 

“Good. Get in the back then, and I apologize, but my GPS doesn’t quite work well. Old scrap stopped working on the way here. You’ll have to point out the directions.” The old man apologized slapping the said device which only gave out a dying like buzz, as to make his point.

“It’s fine, It’s actually on the road back to town, just a bit off the countryside. Timothy explained, a smile on his lips as the warmth of the seat welcomed him. Before he could close the door Jack grabbed it by the handle, opening it back open and glancing inside. 

“Really? How nicely! My home’s actually on the same road back, just a bit more ahead. Can I maybe join?” The driver sent Timothy a peek, a brow up and an unsure look. 

“Well…” He wasn’t too sure if he should, but Jack was already pushing him to the side, making himself comfortable and closing the door with a bang.

“Thanks, sweetheart, really appreciate it.” Jack winked at him and chuckled as Timothy looked at the window with his shoulders tense.

The car started again, and soon the parking lot disappeared behind the trees, trees devouring the lights behind and engulfing the car in a blanket of darkness.

Timothy enjoyed seeing the trees blur out and letting his imagination go wild. It was a fond memory from his childhood. One of a few. Whenever he and his mother would go visit his grandmother, they would drive at night, since his mother persisted that there wouldn’t be as many cars blocking the road. He often gazed at the surrounding forest, impressed by how tall and strong it stood, imagining how many monsters would roam freely behind the trees, watching him with as much fascination as he did at the trees.

At some point Jack started talking with the old man, he noticed as the music got quieter. He pressed his forehead to the cool window, a soft smile tugging at his lips as the memories dazed off the worry, and finally, he let his shoulders relax, his hands now resting calmly on his sides and slow breaths warming up his chest.

As Timothy listened to Jack talk with the driver he felt his eyes closing, realizing only now how heavy his eyelids seemed to be. He found himself to be surprised at how easy it seemed to just fall asleep and relax in someone else’s car with two strangers in it, while in his own bed he could not even lie still for more than a few minutes without checking his door and windows. There was just something so familiar and relaxing about Jack’s voice. He even let the screaming and protests in the back of his head die off, instead letting the sleepiness get the best of him and relax in the warm seat for a while. Not even bothered to open his eyes to check when the screams and pleading got too real.

  


He seemed to fall asleep for a while, as the next time he opened his eyes, the car sat still at the edge of the road. He looked outside the window, darkness surrounding them, and what he figured from the headlights still inside the forest. 

“It seems our princes finally woke up. I’d say good morning, but we’re far away from that yet.” Timothy could hear Jack chuckle, perplexing him as the sound didn’t come from his side, but from the front of the car. He was standing outside, the door open and his body hovering over the driver. “Oh, this? Yeah, don’t worry about him, we don’t need him. I’ll be driving us back home.” Jack pointed with his head at the old man and now did Timothy notice the small blood splatter on his cheek and jaw.

Timothy was confused, and with a heavy swallow, he moved forward to check on the driver's seat, the sight making him almost vomit. The man was pale and cold, probably, he figured, as the skin and clothes on his stomach were ripped to shreds, blood staining his legs, Jack's arms and the seat, chest still heavy. Blood was also gushing from a wound on his head, half of it smashed and his face contorted into a pained expression. The driving wheel was gooey and stained too.

“He wouldn’t stop squirming” Timothy looked at Jack with eyes wide open, his jaw hanging and hands trembling. 

“What?” It wasn’t happening, he thought,

“He couldn’t stop squirming.” Jack repeated himself as if this time it would make any sense. This couldn’t be real, right? This was a dream. A really, real dream. He had those before, he’ll just wake up any second now and-

“Are you going to help me or are you just going to stare?” Jack yelled, already a few feet away from the car, holding the driver by the legs and dragging him on the dirt. Timothy didn’t notice when he got out of the car, too many thoughts in his head to comprehend what was going on around him, but the next time he came back to reality he was standing stiffly, back pressed to a tree and watching Jack dismantle the body with a butcher knife. 

“-so I tell him, ‘you go right and we’ll arrive there sooner’ and this guy-” he took a good swing at his neck, decapitating him swiftly. “-says to me ‘are you stupid? That’s a dead-end!” As if I don’t know this goddamn forest like the back of my hand!”   
How long has he been talking? No, how long has he just been standing there? Apparently long enough, as Jack finally noticed, or maybe just didn’t care up to this point, and got up to stand right in front of him. 

“Hey, princess” Jack snapped his fingers in his face and Timothy jerked at that, still too shocked with everything he saw to even make a noise. “Jeez, you’re going to be one of those people, huh? Oh well, seeing how I will probably not get a word from you, you might as well go and grab me a few plastic bags. That car may come in handy in the future and I’m not feeling like washing more bloodstains than it is necessary.” Jack said, and the warm breath hitting Timothy’s face made shivers run down his spine.

Timothy didn’t move an inch, only when Jack grabbed him by the shoulders and turned around to the car’s direction did he start walking, breath fastening and a scream building up his throat, realization creeping up on him and leaving a suffocating weight in his gut.

Jack killed a man.

Now as he was walking back to the car in complete silence did the memories start coming back. The screams loud and panicked, Jack quiet and focused. The memories felt blurry, and he would’ve taken it for a hallucination if the ache in his throat and the stinging in his eyes weren’t so persistent. Especially when he could still hear his own screams fill up the car.

Then he stopped. 

The car! Of course! He can get back to it and drive away, maybe find a police station and get some help.

Timothy started running, almost tripping on some roots and his own feet, reaching the light in-between the trees as fast as he could, a sense of salvation fogging his head. He almost smacked into the car as he stopped at the last moment and immediately jumped into the car, only for his heart to sink into his stomach and lie heavily like an anchor. The keys weren’t there. 

Timothy looked around, throwing some empty cups and the driver's personal things to find them, hoping that maybe they just fell and got stuck somewhere, not believing that Jack may have taken them with him. Only when he was left sitting in the driver’s seat sweaty and breathing hard did he give up, sitting with his face buried in his hands and crying softly, realizing that this really was going to be his end. He patted the side of his pants, but his phone and keys were gone too. Jack must’ve taken them while he was sleeping. He rested his head on the wheel for some time, eyes closed, procrastinating to go back to the man. He didn’t have a choice. Either he goes back with the plastic bags or…

Timothy dried his face with his shirt, red eyes wandering around the car one last time, took the hunting knife Jack left in the passenger seat and walked to the back of the car, opening the trunk and looking at what was there for him left to take. Not surprised he found there wasn’t much; a changing tire, some small plastic bags, cleaning products, and some leather gloves. He clicked his tongue, unhappy with his findings as he continued to forage. 

A cracking noise grasped Timothy’s focus, once again tensing up, but quickly going back to his previous task. He was taking too long, Jack could come back any second now, and he was sure that he would not have a second chance to escape after that. The image of the severed driver's body flashed in his head, swallowing hard at the thought and with trembling hands searching through bags upon bags. Finally, he found an old map in one of them. It looked like one of those he’d often find at his local gas station, relieved to see that it contained the road back to the city, and even to the surrounding countryside. 

He snatched one of the old bags hidden under the spare tire, throwing the map inside and with a white-knuckled grip holding the knife. 

Timothy quickly looked around him, alert of his surroundings as he dashed away from the car, going down the road and only slowing down when the light from the car could not reach him. 

He sighed heavily, with a trembling hand pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to come up with a plan. He had a map, which was a good start, as he could find his way back to the bus station easily on the first road sign he’d find. Timothy also had a hunting knife, so he didn’t feel so defenseless as before.

The only problem was Jack.

Timothy stopped in his tracks, looked back, and immediately entered the woods, not staying too far from the road but also making sure the trees were blocking him from anyone noticing him. Jack could always try to drive this way, in that scenario in no way could Timothy ever outrun him.

Guess he shouldn’t have to worry about that anymore, as something heavy hit him in the head, soon after tasting blood and dirt.

“You know what, I thought you had more brain cells working in that head of yours than that douchebag, but I guess I was wrong.” Jack sneered at him, kneeling next to Timothy and grabbing a handful of his hair. “I’m really disappointe-FUCK!” Jack yelped, quickly taking his hand back and falling on his ass. 

Timothy sat straight up, gripping tightly at the hunting knife and watching Jack like a panicked deer.

Jack held his hand in front of him, his face shifting from an angered expression to a more relaxed one, amused even. “Alright, so our kitten has claws, huh?” His chuckle echoed through the woods, not worried about being too loud as apparently no one was around. He turned his eyes from his fresh wound to Timothy and raised a brow. “Are you just going to sit there or do something? You can’t really run while sitting, you know.” 

But could he really run? If he tried to get up, he’d be quickly wrestled to the ground again, but if he tried to fight Jack might hurt him, seeing as the man was a bit larger than him, and apparently more accommodated with handling bodies. Timothy didn’t have to think about it any longer as a jolt of pain ran through his arm, his face again buried in the ground and his arm painfully twisted on his back. 

“Too slow.” Jack’s voice was almost inaudible because of Timothy’s cries and whimpers.

He gritted his teeth as a knee pressed to his back, his second arm soon accompanying the twisted one and getting tied together by what he thought was tape. 

“Please, just let me go…” Timothy cried beneath the older man, not moving as he didn’t want his arm to break. Something he was sure would happen with one wrong move.

He was tired, but he still pushed his head off the ground, just enough to move it and look at Jack, as he’s been silent after that for a good second. He swallowed loudly as the man was just looking at him, brows knit together and eyes lost, the man visibly thinking about something.

Timothy prayed that he would survive this night.

“Nah. I’ve got something planned for you, kiddo.” A hand came back to his hair, loud cries echoing one more time, this time silenced by a hand on his mouth.

“And If you don’t stop screaming, I might just stitch those pretty lips of yours together.” Jack hissed.

“It’s not like you’ll need them anyway, so do yourself a favor, will you pumpkin.”

Timothy felt his head smash against something hard, a cracking sound ringing in his ears.

Dark spots danced in front of his eyes, and with his head swaying back and forth, it took him a while to realize that he was hanging from Jack’s shoulder. Not that it made any difference to him now. The pain in his head was taking all his attention. He did not appreciate thought the constant zoning out and finding himself in a new place.

Warmth tickled his skin, soft padding beneath him smoothing the throbbing ache that was about to crack his head open. 

A warm liquid dripping down his face made it clear to him it already did.

A warm cloth soon washed the blood away, Timothy now being able to open his eyes again and see, although the spots still blocked his vision partially.   
“Calm down. I’m not smashing any more bones in you tonight, so breath.”

The hand placed on his chest felt like an anchor, too heavy to make him move but somehow calming him down, the pressure, warmth, and his tired body forcing him to relax.

A pitiful whimper escaped him, and tears started rolling again.

“That’s it. Just take it easy” 

Timothy didn’t move an inch, nor turn his head around, letting Jack wash his face and neck, taking more time with the second as he watched the Adam's apple jump with each hiccup, with each swallow of air and each failed attempt to speak up.

Or beg, most likely.

Soon, Jack got up and closed the door, leaving Timothy alone once more. 

His hands were still tied up behind him, but he didn’t bother to somehow loosen them. What use would it be, anyway? 

The front door opened, Jack sat with a grunt in the driver's seat and started the car. Humming softly to the music that played on the radio, tapping his fingers on the wheel and once in a while sparing Tim a glance through the front mirror.   
The music only worsened his headache, so he moved to his side, face hidden in the seat.

“Go ahead, take a long and nice beauty sleep. It will take a while to arrive home, anyway.” Timothy didn’t need to look to see the hungry, sharp teeth filled grin.

The woods behind the window blurred, no monsters in sight or hiding between the trees. The one he has been fearing so much since childhood was now whistling happily, the wolf famished and content with his prise. 

Timothy only chuckled at the word ‘home’, before dazzling into a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh so I'm the slow writer, I see I see.   
> This chapter was just lightly edited, just to make sure the grammar is somewhat decent, so I'll be probably going back to this soon and giving it proper work over.

“How about a coffee? I’d kill to drink one right now” Jack groaned and pressed his forehead to the steering wheel. If it wasn’t for how annoyed the man seemed to be for the last hour, Timothy would just take it as a joke. 

Timothy let out a shaky breath, his fear long gone but lingering quietly in the back of his head. He was sure that he’d be alive for some time. How long probably depended on his cooperation, he assumed. That’s why he stopped trashing every time Jack put a hand on his shoulder, and why now his hands laid free in his lap, fingers scratching at the skin were not so long ago it tightly pressed tape to.

That felt like an enormous achievement, even more so when Jack let him sit in the front, eyeing the hunting knife resting in the cup holder with his keys and phone. He tried to reach for them once, at which Jack grabbed his hand and dug his nail into his skin. A warning came after that and he was left all by himself again, Jack focused on the road once more and nothing but the radio to keep him company.

The road was boring, nothing to keep his mind busy with, and with his primary source of paranoia and soon to be a panic attack sitting right next to him, relaxed and head pressed to the window he needed a distraction. Fast. 

And with that, it left him with one possibility, which was talking.

Timothy hated small talks, even more the longer ones when with someone he did not know or wish to be in the company of. He didn’t know what to talk about, or even more what he allowed to talk about. He kept giving quick glances at Jack, glancing back at his hands whenever the man would look at him with a raised brow and a smirk. 

He knew that Timothy wanted to ask some questions, and it shoved how much he loved seeing him struggle to get even one comprehensible sentence out of him. 

The fear of fucking up and getting the man mad was enormous, and the ache in his head did not help in coming up with any solutions to his current situation. 

He raised his hand and touched his forehead, a low hiss escaping his lips and the raw and damaged skin burned under his touch.

“I wouldn’t touch it yet if I were you. I only cleaned it, not sewed shut.” Jack said without looking at Timothy, eyes fixed on the road and a finger tapping to his temple.

There was a bit of blood smeared on his fingers, backing up Jack’s statement. 

Timothy cursed silently at which Jack chuckled, a soft pat to his shoulder and another warning to try to not get it open again.

They were left in silence once more, nausea and stress creeping back on him.

Tim got annoyed with that though pretty quickly, and with a glint of bravery he tried to speak up, or more so ask questions again.

He knew from his past trials that they didn’t lead anywhere, but with every next he asked, Jack seemed to open up more. Never saying anything personal about himself, but enough for Timothy to realise how deep in shit he is.

He tried to recall some of his past questions, memories fogged by either his head not working properly after the fight or the sheer amount of stress that he’s been under since last night. Or was it two days ago?

He couldn’t tell. The constant blacking out and brief naps he took didn’t help his memory at all.

The first time was a bit after he woke up, the sun just slightly peeking behind the trees. The forest seemed to be less dense than when he was still awake, mountains much closer to them and a lot less signs near the road. He did not recognise the place, but assumed that it must’ve been far away from the city, as he remembered seeing the same mountain from his old office window, far away from the town and hidden on the edge of the forest. 

He tried asking Jack where they were headed to, at which he replied ‘home’. He tried asking again, this time where his home was, but Jack only growled under his nose and said that he’d better go back to sleep. 

Timothy couldn’t keep his eyes closed for too long though, eyes glued to the man’s hands and thinking of the chase in the forest.

The cracking noise echoing through his skull like a bell.

The second time was at a stop, and to his surprise he got some answers.

Jack complained how his back hurt from sitting behind the wheel for this long would ruin his back more than it already was, which made Timothy question his age. He noticed a tuft of grey between Jack’s dark brown hair at the bus stop, but only now that the sun was finally up in full grace did the lines on his face show. 

Jack let him hop out of the car, tape still on his hands but free to wander around the car. 

Timothy did not go too far though, only enough to get rid of the stiffness in his legs. He sat down on a wood log, the tree old and covered partially in moss. He couldn't care less about getting his clothes dump and dirty, especially when dried blood and dirt was already all over him.

He watched Jack stretch, eyes glued to the dry blood stain on his jaw, which he scratched off with his thumb when he noticed Tim starring. 

“I know, I probably look good as hell like this, but you’ll get more later so don’t get all heated up.” Jack said.

Timothy clicked his tongue and stood up, and having none of Jack’s complaints and whines, he sat back in the car in the front seat. To his surprise, Jack didn’t mind that, instead opening up the trunk and getting busy with something. As soon as a rotting odor hit his nose, he looked away and pinched his nose shut with his fingers. He would’ve rather not think about what happened, going as far as asking Jack if he needed help just to keep his mind busy with something. Anything.

“Nah, I’m good.” Jack called from the back of the car, and while pulling an enormous plastic bag over his shoulder with a grunt he locked the trunk back closed. 

“Can’t have you running away like that, now can I?” His eyes followed Jack as he disappeared in the forest, the cracking sticks and leaves getting more distant, leaving him only with a chilly wind and the empty car.

Timothy didn’t even attempt to run, or hide, or anything like that. He instead waited for Jack to come back. He wasn’t too eager to find out how many beatings his head can take before cracking wide open, and at this point the sleepiness was getting to him. His body felt heavy and slaggy, and any trial of walking a considerable distance away from here was laughable, especially when his head throbbed and pierced him with pain.

The seats were warm and soft, and the smell of the pine leaves around him worked on him like a spell, struggling not to fall asleep.

Soon enough Jack came back, and whipping the sweat of his forehead with the base of his shirt, he sat back in the driver's seat, taking deep breaths and closing his eyes to rest. 

Timothy took the chance, although convinced that this try would end up like the last one. 

“Why did you kill him?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Timothy didn’t know which surprised him more. The answer or the fact that he received one in the first place.

“W-what?”

“C’mon pumpkin, don’t tell me you never had a need to just smash someone’s head after a bad day.” Jack threw an arm behind Tims back, dragging him closer. 

“You’re sick.” Timothy said, his brows lifting at his own blunt response. 

“Oh, so you can talk back.” Jack laughed. “I thought you could only cry and pass out. You kinda have a talent for that.”

Timothy said nothing back, a pout the only response he was willing to give. 

He noticed that Jack was still drawing him closer, which unnerved him as he didn’t want to be closer to the man than he needed to, so he put his tied hands on his side and pushed himself away.

Jack’s laugh died off, and a glare would soon lean heavily over Tim, which he in return tried to ignore by looking out of the window and curling up in his seat.

Soon they were back on the road, the silence this time more suffocating as Timothy could swear that he felt Jack’s eyes longer on him this time. He felt like a caged prey and then need to run was back again.

They sat in silence up to this point, Jack was silent and focused more on the road, now murmuring quietly under his nose whenever a car would pass them. The cheerful tapping of his fingers gone and instead a hard grip on the steering wheel took its place. 

Timothy let himself relax a bit thought after what he hoped for, a joke about the coffee, once again questioning if a conversation would relax the man a bit.

“We could always stop by a gas station?” Timothy proposed, uncertainty lingering on the tip of his tongue. 

Jack’s expression relaxed a bit, at which the younger man was pleased with.

“Yeah.” Jack said. “Yeah, I think we should. We’re on D.S. 27, right? We should be getting close to a superb gas station. Their pretzels? Oh, it’s the titts.”

As Jack rambled on about how their pretzels are just salty enough and well baked, Timothy had to grab his stomach in pain as the hunger caught up with him, struggle painted on his face so visibly that Jack handed him a granola bar. 

“Eat this champ, can’t have you fainting there. It’s enough that I had to beat some sense into you, I don’t want them thinking that this is a bit more than a ‘family trip’ and calling the police or some pretentious bullshit.” Jack said.

Timothy just looked at the snack, and while he’d rather wait for the food, Jack has been complimenting with lots of passion, a grumble coming from his stomach.

“Oh c’mon, it’s not poisoned. If I wanted to, I would’ve just forced it into you.” Jack said, gesturing vaguely at the energy bar. 

Timothy kept his eyes on the bar, his appetite slowly rising with each growl from his stomach. 

“I’m not hungry.” He said, putting the snack into the cup holder. Jack watched him with an eyebrow raised, a smile painted wide on his face. 

“Your loss, champ.” Jack said and snatched the granola bar, tearing it open and taking a mouthful.

Timothy did not mind that though, Jack’s comment about poisoning now sitting heavily in his head, pinned to it like a note reminding him to better not eat anything that Jack gives him. Though he shouldn’t be too worried about going hungry for too long, if Jack’s words were true about the gas station. If he will buy him anything.

“How far away is it anyway?” Timothy asked.

“How far is what?”

“The gas station. We… We are going to get some food, right?” 

‘Jack didn’t have any reasons to buy him anything. He could just leave him hungry for a day or two more,’. Tim grabbed his stomach at that thought. Maybe he could’ve at least kept it for later?

‘But he was more patient with him today than the last two days, so maybe he was slowly falling into his good graces’. He tried to reason, his fingers grabbing at the shirt.

“Nah, we’re just going to say hello, look at the trees and get going.” Jack said, the faint tapping on the steering wheel back. “Of course we are dummy, you’re not the only one going with no proper food for the past forty or more hours.”  
“Oh, right.” Timothy whispered. He was so preoccupied with himself that he forgot Jack’s body worked just like his and needed just as much. Well, maybe more, cause if he was just as strong as him he wouldn’t be in this situation.

A sign flashed past them, and as he read ‘Axxon twelve miles away’ something warm laid on his leg, the tapping slowing down.

“So, I’m guessing you live alone?” Jack asked, giving Tim a pat on the tight and laying it back down.

“Yeah.” Tim said.

“Well, lucky for you not alone.” Jack snickered, eyes on the road. “Tough shame for the cats, you better have a neighbor who borrows sugar often, or no ones going to find them for a while.”

A shiver ran down his spine, Timothy looking at Jack with eyes wide open.

“...How do you know i have cats?” 

“The fur on your pants? Buddy, you live on the last floor. Trust me, I may be dedicated to my job, but not to the point of climbing up a wall thirty feet up.” Jack said with such a tone as if it was obvious.

“B-but how that they’re cats? I could have dogs, you know…” Timothy said.

“Lucky guess.” 

Not too much time passed after that till Jack spoke again.

“Seeing how we’re four miles away now, I want to get something clear, alright?” The hand laid uncomfortably on his leg, his index finger circling slowly on the fabric and slowly digging his nails into it.

“You’re going to stay quiet, not a word will come out of your mouth, or I’m going to shove that cloth up your throat and keep you in the trunk instead for the rest of the road.” Jack said, eyes glooming over Tim like a weapon.

“Of course…” Tim said, moving his leg away to pray it free.

“‘Of course’, as if. You’re not going to keep it shut, will you?” He squeezed the leg and moved it back, now even closer to him. “So if a relaxing ride in the back will not be enough for you, make sure you’ll be accommodated to dark and tight places, cause once back home, you’ll be spending a week in a small room with nothing but a bed frame. Am I clear?” 

Timothy stayed silent, eyes glued to the hand, and with a quiet whimper he nodded.

“Good boy.” Jack said. “If you’ll be behaving well, I’ll let you have something for the road too, hm? A bit of cooperation and you’ll get a reward, how about it?” 

Timothy let his shoulders slump down as he closed his eyes and let the fingers dig into his tight. 

“Alright… Yeah, ok…” He whispered back.

“I didn’t hear you kitten.”  
“I said ‘alright’. Timothy repeated through gritted teeth.

“Atta boy.” Jack smiled and took the hand back, a burning sensation left on his skin where he was just digging his nails in.

The car slowed down as they drove onto a side road, and from between the trees a parking lot emerged. 

“We’re here.” Jack said, eyes sharp on Timothy again as he slowed the car down and stopped behind a truck, the car well hidden in the massive shadow. 

A tight knot formed in Tim's chest, unwilling to get out when Jack got out and opened the door for him. 

“What are you waiting for? I’m not leaving you here.” Jack snarled.

His legs did not cooperate as well as before, giving in slightly as he stood up, only an arm under his stomach kept him up.

“Don’t act like that, someone's gonna see you.” Tim winced as a furious breath reached his ear, the warning giving him enough strength to not fall on the ground and keep his head up as they entered the building.

An inviting scent of coffee and honey hit his nose, his body feeling more sluggish as he desperately searched for a chair with his eyes, the jazz music barely reaching him. Something warm wrapped around his waist as he was dragged to a table under a window, letting him slowly drop on a red cushion decorated seat. 

“Stay here, I’ll get something for you.” Jack whispered.

The warmth on his waist disappeared as Jack walked up to the cashier, surprised as he found himself disappointed at that. As people walked past him, Tim could not help but feel their eyes digging into him. He drifted closer to the window, resting the side of his head on the glass and grabbing his wrist with the other hand, scratching at it aggressively despite the piercing pain it gave. 

His shoulders were tens, his body trying to fit in that small corner, away from everything. He should be glad he was here, normal people surrounding him, and Jack right under the camera, which was tucked right above the door to the personal room. He could just scream, ask for help. He had the advantage, not Jack. 

Yet he didn’t.

There was something about this place. How Jack talked with the girl behind the counter who looked back at Timothy with no worry, even pointing her finger at him when Jack whispered in her ear with a sly smile. How the surrounding people looked at him like prey, and not someone whose head is visibly covered in remains of dried blood and mud, skin cracked under a tuft of curly red hair. Or how no one seemed to take notice of that glaring poster, a low quality photo of Jack, with blood on his face from a gash open wide on his nose and cheek, with a police number under it and a warning to call if noticed.

“Here. Hope you didn’t speak with anyone.” A plate of warm toasts and pretzels laid on the table, with two cups of coffee and a few bags of sugar. “They don’t like newcomers.” 

“I noticed.” Tim said, straightening up at the smell of warm cheese and bread.   
Jack sat in front of him, relaxed in his seat as he took a pretzel and bit into it. 

“So, as I said before, you’re going to help me out a little bit bud. I didn’t keep you alive for nothing, right?” Jack said with a mouth full, already going for the coffee.

Timothy didn’t respond.

“Words, kitten, words. Unless you want me to get bored with you.” Jack sipped and glared at the younger man, quietly tapping at the table with his free hand. 

“No. I mean yeah, you have a reason.” Tim responded quietly, reaching warely for a pretzel. The next sentence was almost inaudible. “You um, you said you had something planned for me?” 

“Yes! And I am very excited. You see-” Jack put down his cup to clap his hands together, the man visibly excited as a sharp grin followed his words. “-I’m a busy man, and there’s just so much that one person can do. Even though I do just fine, mind you, there’s something, someone actually, that’s really getting on my ass.”

Timothy nibbled at the food, as he could not swallow anything more while listening to the man. 

“That bitch Lilith from the police department, for example. While she’s faaaar away from actually catching me, she’s getting closer and closer, each month arriving a bit earlier to my working places. Do you know how annoying that is, having to cut in a rush?” Jack slumped in his seat, stuffing his mouth full with both the food and coffee at once and swallowing it down with a loud gulp. “So, I’ve been thinking-”

“I’m not going to like it, am I?” Tim asked himself in a whisper.

“-what if there were two Jacks?” The man ignored him and continued on his rant. “I mean, imagine her face, when she gets to the murder scene, already all cleaned up and ready for her arrival, when she gets a call that another one has just been found.” Jack chuckled, his hands flying as if he’s telling the funniest joke he could muster. “Oh. This is going to be great kitten, trust me.” He finished with a sly tone on the end, calling for another coffee as he finished his with a lick to his lips. 

Tim waited a second, maybe to think of something to say or for the man to continue. Or maybe to wrap his head around the fact that Jack wanted him to kill.

“I-” He started, putting his food down and stopping as the girl from the counter up to pour Jack another cup, a pouty smile on her face as she didn’t even bat an eye at how Tim looked.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now Timmy, I know you probably have no experience in that, so I’ll help you out a bit.” 

Timothy felt something brush against his leg, yet he did not move it.

“Jack. I can’t kill.” Tim said when the girl walked away. “I don’t want to kill.” The words were as shaky as his shoulders, but he stayed firmly by what he said. 

“How cute, you think I’m giving you a choice.” Jack laughed a bit, then tilted above the table and grabbed the collar of Tim’s shirt, moving him closer so their faces were inches apart. “The only choice I’m giving you is either coming with me home, and listening to what I say, or staying here, behind the parking lot in the forest, for your rotting body to be pissed on by rabid dogs and get eaten by maggots.” Jack hissed out, the hand traveling up Tim's neck to his jaw, grabbing it forcefully and brushing away a tear. “You have another few minutes to decide, kitten. After that, you’re either going to spend time with me or with the roots of some trees. Capiche?” 

“Yes…” Tim said, eyes closed as a breakdown was soon to happen if he continued to look into those mismatched eyes. 

“Good.” Jack let go of him, and when sitting back with his back pressed to the cushions, he started drinking his second cup. “Now get to eating, the road will be another half of what we did in the last two days.”

Timothy took the pretzel, his gaze locked on something in the distance. This could be his last meal, he realised. The bite he took tastes saltier than the last one. 

“Oh don’t cry. Unless those are tears of joy, then go ahead.” Jack continued eating as if the conversation they had was completely normal. Tim guessed it wasn’t something new for Jack. But the look the man wore was, at least to Tim.

“Pack your things, we’re going now.” Jack said, looking at something outside the window. 

“What?” Tim asked, turning his head in the direction Jack was facing. A police car stood near the entrance, the door open as a red-haired woman got out. Her face was familiar to him, but he couldn’t really tell why. 

A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up with such speed he almost fell back on his ass. 

“I said now.” Jack hissed, pressing the food into Tim's chest and grabbing him by his wrist, dragging him to the counter without too much care if the younger man was keeping up or not. The lady quickly stepped aside, letting Jack walk behind the counter and into the personal room. 

“Jack?” The man didn’t bother when Timothy called from behind him, only putting a hand on his mouth and looking at the door, listening for...someone?

“Alright, quick history lesson. You probably noticed that a little pest just arrived, right?” Timothy nodded his head at the question. “Well, she’s Lilith, you probably recognize her seeing how she’s just as popular as me, just in a bit of a different way.” Jack whispered.

Tim didn’t try to correct him since a hand was on his lips, and Jack seemed in a sour mood. 

As Timothy heard a conversation between two women from outside the room Jack, let go of him and nodded with his head towards another door on the opposite side of the room, which after opening led them to the back of the gas station. 

“Well, that was a lovely surprise. Hope that won’t happen again.” Jack said as he walked behind Tim, pushing him forward towards their car. “Good thing it’s parked there, she may have not noticed it.” Jack would continue on muttering under his nose after getting into the car, only stopping to look back at the building, in which from the big windows he could spot Lilith. 

“Gotta send Meg a little gift someday, she’s such a cute little thing, always giving a helping hand.” Jack looked at Tim without turning his head. “You could learn a thing or two.” 

Tim pressed his head against the window, wrinkling his nose at that and watching as the parking lot slowly disappeared behind the trees. He took a small bite out of one of the pretzels, his appetite completely gone, but as he was sure that there wouldn’t be a warm meal waiting for him upon arrival, he took what he would get.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to add that this fic was supposed to be called "Meat Lovers".  
> Just a fun little fact.


End file.
